


say you'll bee mine

by deceptivesoldier, obsessivereader, talkplaylove



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AIRPORT MEET-CUTE, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bees, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Engineer Bucky Barnes, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, POV Steve Rogers, Shrunkyclunks, The Avengers Ship It, bee puns, don't fuck the bees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 16:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13884924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deceptivesoldier/pseuds/deceptivesoldier, https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessivereader/pseuds/obsessivereader, https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkplaylove/pseuds/talkplaylove
Summary: When Steve glances over at Hot Guy again, Hot Guy catches his eye and gives him a tentative smile. Steve’s brain shuts down and he looks away. But the serum gave him great vision, so out of the corner of his eye, he sees Hot Guy stand up, take two steps, get his foot caught in a backpack strap, trip, and fall down.Steve’s out of his chair and next to Hot Guy before he even has time to think. "Oh my God, Hot Guy! Are you okay?"His hearing is sensitive enough to pick out Sam’s whispered “Did you just call Hot Guy ‘Hot Guy’?” at the same time as he realizes what he just said.Hot Guy blinks up at him from the floor, probably too confused to stand up. "Did you just call me ‘Hot Guy’?"





	say you'll bee mine

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [say you'll bee mine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14366613) by [Timeout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timeout/pseuds/Timeout)



> This fic started out when the three of us went mad for bees and airport meet-cutes in the Stucky Big Bang 2017 Slack. It grew from a notfic into this. We hope you have as much fun reading it as we did working on it!  
> -team dot

Airports suck. They suck time, fun, and energy. Sure, Steve could do something productive, but there really isn’t much to do when you’re waiting to board your plane. Most people pass the time on their phones but Steve has had enough with trying to knock the pigs down in Angry Birds. He stretches his legs out in the cramped seat, and starts watching the people around him, in a totally non-creepy way.

There’s a girl in pigtails running around a row of chairs. Nearby, a woman is using Facetime on her phone to talk, while the man a couple of seats away shoots irritated glances at her as he types on his laptop. Steve sighs, turning back to his phone. Maybe he could play a game Tony’s been bothering him to try? He’s about to do just that when something catches his eye.

It’s a graphic print tee. Steve prefers his shirts plain (and two sizes too small), but the one in question is well, unique. It isn’t a witty quote or a minimalist design—it’s a large bumble bee plastered on a gray shirt.

Steve cranes his neck. The shirt in full reads, _The Bee Whisperer_ , and huh, he didn’t know that was a thing. He’s watched bits of the Dog Whisperer with Clint, but he’s never heard about bees. What would that even entail?

His eyes drift upwards to see a hint of stubble, gray eyes, and dark hair. His heart does a funny flip in his chest.

He stares. And okay, he knows it’s not polite to stare, Sarah Rogers didn’t raise him to be rude, but damn—that is the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. He’s reading a book, but Steve doesn’t bother to try and figure out what exactly it is. His eyes track the man’s profile, and all Steve can think is _prettyprettyprettypretty_.

His mantra, however, is interrupted when the guy looks up, somehow immediately finding Steve’s gaze. Steve’s cheeks heat up, but when a slow smirk stretches across the guy’s face, he can’t find it in himself to look away.

They stare at each other. It feels like ages, but it’s probably only minutes, seconds even. Sam, sitting on Steve’s right, lets out a whispered cheer, jostling him when he raises his hands above his head. “Take that, pigs!”

The guy in the bee shirt lifts a hand up from his book and gives a little wave at Steve.

Steve takes a deep breath, stands, and ambles over.

_Be cool, Steve._

That’s when he's ambushed by the little girl in pigtails, running right into his stomach.

She falls, and loud, wailing cries immediately pierce the air.

Oh God. Steve’s injured a child. He's injured a child with his goddamned supersoldier muscles. Steve looks around, panicked, wondering how many people are witnessing the incident. He spots Hot Guy staring at him with wide eyes.

After a shocked moment, Hot Guy starts chuckling. Steve can _hear it._ It doesn't sound mean or anything, but still, it's the sound of his complete and utter humiliation.

Cheeks burning, he bends down to check on the kid.

“Jeez, I'm so sorry! You're just... so small. How did you not see me?” Realizing he probably shouldn’t be asking these questions of a child, he wracks his brain, searching for something to say. He's no good with kids. They always cry around him, something he still has very vivid memories of from when he was on the USO tour.

“Hey, hey, how’d you like to meet the Falcon?” The crying doesn’t stop. “He’s a cool guy. He’s got wings. Flies around and everything! Yeah?” She keeps crying, big rivulets of tears streaming down her cheeks and onto her dress. “Uh, the Black Widow? Hawkeye? They’re not here right now but… uhm, Falcon is?”  Still no dice. “Er... Captain America?"

The little girl takes a deep breath and stares at him, bottom lip clenched between her teeth, big doe eyes shining. She’s stopped the loud sobbing, at least. But now she’s just looking at Steve like he's an alien with two heads. He casts about, desperate for help. Of which Sam’s providing absolutely _none_ , he's just sitting there shaking his head at Steve, obviously trying not to laugh. Where _is_ this kid’s mother?

“Hey, look at the bee on that guy’s shirt. It’s a cool bee, right?” Steve says, desperate.

The little girl’s lip trembles.

A tall woman finally rushes forward and crouches next to her. “Oh my God! Alexia, are you okay?”

Of course, this is the moment the kid decides to burst into tears. Again. “Oh no, honey. It's okay,” her mom wraps her up in a hug. “It was just an accident.”

She looks up at Steve. “I'm so sorry, she wasn't looking—oh my God. You're—”

Steve rubs at his neck, feeling the heat rise. “Yes, I am, ma’am. Please don't apologise. I didn't see her,”—because she came out of _nowhere—_ “it's all my fault. If there's anything I can do…?”

“Oh no,” she demurs. But then she stops to reconsider. “Actually, could we—” she looks down at her daughter, who's now quieted again (Steve wonders if there are on and off switches for these tiny humans) and is looking at Steve with wide brown eyes. “Could we get a photo with you?”

“Sure!” Steve steals a glance at Hot Guy (he can’t help it, it’s like his eyes have grown magnets) while he moves behind mother and daughter for a selfie. He spots amused gray-blue eyes peering at him over the top of Hot Guy’s book.

Great. His humiliation is complete. He has—as Sam likes to say—no game.

Steve looks away with a blush, turning back to the woman, who is grinning at him brightly.

“Where are you headed?” she asks, tilting her head. Steve blinks, and adjusts to cross his arms over his chest, which draws the woman’s gaze there.

“Oh, um. I’m headed over there,” he replies, pointing a finger over to Hot Guy. “I’m really sorry for bumping into your little girl. Have a good day!”

Without waiting for a reply, Steve waves and turns back towards Hot Guy, striding over with more confidence than he feels. That is, until he realizes that he has absolutely _no_ idea what to say to him. How does one start a conversation with the most attractive person in the airport? Steve doesn’t know, but maybe _Sam_ does. He does an about-face and walks right back over to his seat.

Sam glances up. “Yes?”

“Sam,” Steve says, jaw set. “I’m about to go over and talk to the most attractive person in the airport.”

“You’re already talking to them,” Sam says graciously.

Steve opens his mouth and shuts it. Sam smirks.

Steve chooses the path that will get him the outcome he wants. He drops into the seat next to Sam. “Fine, the _second_ most attractive person then. How do I talk to him? What do I say? _He saw me knock over a child._ Do I address that? Pretend it didn’t happen?”

Sam tries to rein in his laughter and be a Supportive FriendTM. “Steve, all you need to do is go to him and introduce yourself. It isn’t rocket science, I swear.”

Steve looks at his friend, unsure what kind of game plan _that_ is. “You want me to _talk_ to him. Samuel, you cannot just go up and start a random conversation with a guy like _that_ all willy nilly! I need a plan!”

Sam squints at him, his expression saying, _I can’t believe you just said ‘willy nilly’_. But what comes out of his mouth is, "I thought your battle plan was rush in, think about the consequences later?""

"Sam.” He takes a deep breath. “You need tactics here. Battles aren't as important!" Steve’s eyes flick over to Hot Guy’s, then back to Sam.

"Are you fuckin’ serious," Sam says, shifting forward in his seat and draping his elbows across his knees.

When Steve glances over at Hot Guy again, Hot Guy catches his eye and gives him a tentative smile. Steve’s brain shuts down and he looks away. But the serum gave him great vision, so out of the corner of his eye, he sees Hot Guy stand up, take two steps, get his foot caught in a backpack strap, trip, and fall down.

Steve’s out of his chair and next to Hot Guy before he even has time to think. " _O_ h my God, Hot Guy! Are you okay?"

His hearing is sensitive enough to pick out Sam’s whispered “ _Did you just call Hot Guy ‘Hot Guy’?”_ at the same time as he realizes what he just said.

Hot Guy blinks up at him from the floor, probably too confused to stand up. "Did you just call me ‘Hot Guy’?"

Steve’s brain has gone offline from horror.

He and Hot Guy stare at each other.

Luckily, Sam walks over, keeping a straight face. Because he’s a Good FriendTM like that. "Please stop being awkward, Steve. It's not good to stare at people. Who are on the floor. And obviously need a hand."

Words have yet to form in Steve’s brain when a voice over the PA announces that their flight is boarding. He starts panicking… he can’t leave things like this.

Hot Guy doesn’t seem inclined to get up on his own, lounging on the floor like he’s in a photoshoot. Or like he’s two seconds away from saying _Draw me like one of your French girls_.

"Little help, here?" Hot Guy asks with a little smirk.

"God, yes!" Steve scoops Hot Guy up in his arms. He stands up and thinks _What the fuck have I just done._

"Hi there,” Hot Guy’s voice is amused. “Are you gonna carry me onto my plane?"

Well, he seems to have taken it in stride.

“I can if you want me to?” Steve says. That’s what his muscles are for, and everything.

Hot Guy extends his arm as if to say _Shall we?,_ so Steve starts walking. Sam follows behind, grumbling about having to carry Steve’s and Hot Guy’s shit just because Steve’s being an idiot over Hot Guy.

(Well, Sam’s not wrong.)

It takes them quite a few minutes to get to their gate, but Steve’s not even breathing heavy, and would’ve happily carried Hot Guy all the way to the next terminal.

Hot Guy looks up at the gate and then his face falls. “Oh, this isn’t my gate.”

“Oh,” Steve says, fighting down the crush of disappointment blooming in his chest. When he moves to set Hot Guy down, lush pink lips form a small pout, so Steve holds on. They stare at each other.

“It’s alright,” Hot Guy says. “You can have my number. If you want.”

“I want,” Steve says, and doesn’t say, _I can borrow Tony’s jet to see you._ Because that might just be borderline creepy for someone he just met.

Sam clears his throat from behind them. “Not that I don’t think you two can do this on your own, but maybe you should get each other’s numbers now? We have business waiting for us in New York, Steve.”

Hot Guy looks at Steve with a raised eyebrow. "Are you gonna put me down so I can give you my number?"

Steve blushes and nods, setting him down. Hot Guy waits as Steve fumbles in his jacket pockets for his phone, only to realize that it's in the back pocket of his jeans. Hot Guy beams at him when he hands it over.

Steve watches, a little helplessly as Hot Guy taps away at his phone. Hot Guy looks up at him and smiles, stepping even closer to Steve and slips the phone inside Steve’s jacket pocket.

“Text me,” he says, dropping a kiss to Steve’s cheek. Then he walks back out to the waiting area. It’s a smooth exit, spoiled only by Hot Guy having to double back to retrieve his bag from Sam. His cheeks are a little pink as he gives Sam a polite nod.

Steve thinks it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. His heart is beating like crazy. He feels dazed, with only one thought spinning in his head: _Airports don’t suck_.

Sam pushes him into the plane.

It isn't until Steve is all strapped in and checking his phone (where _Hot Guy From Airport_ features as his newest contact) that he realizes he didn’t manage to get Hot Guy’s name, so now he has to figure out how to stealthily ask.  

He turns to Sam as the flight attendant tells them where to find the emergency exits. “Sam. _I didn’t get his name._ ”

Sam sighs the sigh of the long-suffering. “Just ask? He's kissed you already, surely you can ask for his name?"

Steve scowls. "I wasn't exactly thinking about pleasantries, Sam."

"I can't believe a whole nation looks up to you." Sam leans back against the headrest, despair in his tone.

"Low blow, Sam."

The attendant asks them to turn their phones off during take-off, so Steve does.

__

The plane ride’s relatively peaceful, with only a couple of passengers requesting selfies from Captain America and Falcon, but Steve’s antsy till the plane finally lands. As soon as the seatbelt signs are switched off, he grabs for his phone. There's a message waiting from Hot Guy From Airport.

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 2:30 PM

**I really hope you landed alright.**

**‘cause we really** **_need_ ** **to plan our date.**

And there's a photo of HGFA (Hot Guy From Airport) attached, in his stupidly cute bee shirt with his attractive face, airport terminal in the background.

Steve stares at the photo. Slowly, he types out,

**thank you, i did. i hope u have a safe flight.**

**where are u headed?**

Because aside from not knowing this guy's name, he doesn't know what city he lives in?????

As soon as he hits send, Sam yanks the phone away and points at the overhead bin, where their hand luggage is stored. Steve sighs and gets up, knowing Sam won’t return his phone till they’re out of the plane.

They’re on their way out of the airport when Steve’s phone beeps with an incoming message. He stops in his tracks and staggers a little when Sam crashes into his back. There’s a muffled curse that Steve ignores as he unlocks his phone at record speed.

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 2:35 PM

**Why, are you gonna come meet me there? ;)**

Steve sends a message while Sam steers him to the Stark limo waiting for them.

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 2:36 PM

**i can do that.**

"Sam," Steve says, looking up from his phone. " _How do I ask for his name when I'm already flirting with him?_ "

"Goddammit, Steve. If the villains knew it only took a pretty boy to disable Captain America, you would've been taken out ages ago. All you need to do is say _what is your name?_ "

Steve gives him a blank look. "As great as that sounds, I think I'm going to go with, ‘What would you like me to call you? Because I can't keep calling you angel in my head’, with a winky face."

"Oh my God. The historians know nothing," Sam mutters.

Steve sends the message. Steve cannot be stopped.

He turns back to Sam with a bright smile. Sam squints at him until the _ding_ from Steve's phone signals an incoming message.

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 2:38 PM

**I'm no angel, doll.**

**;)**

"Sam! What does this mean?!" Steve exclaims, eyebrows furrowed.

Sam simply stares at him until Steve huffs and turns back to his phone. Fine, if Sam won't help, then Steve's just gonna have to talk to Hot Guy himself.

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 2:43 PM

**only angels could be as pretty as u are.**

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 2:45 PM

**Angels fall from the sky. I rise from the bottom ;)**

“Sam—" Steve starts, then remembers that Sam Is Of No Use For This. So he knocks on the partition separating them from the driver.

Happy rolls down the partition. "Do you need anything, Captain Rogers?"

"What does it mean when a guy you're pretty sure is flirting with you calls himself a demon?" Steve asks, confused.

"Oh my god," Sam grumbles to himself.

"Um. Maybe that he's a… bad boy?" Happy asks. He meets Sam’s eyes through the rearview mirror.

"A bad boy." Steve digests this. "But he was wearing a _bee_ shirt."

Happy barks a laugh and Sam shakes his head in disappointment. "A bee shirt! Then he's gotta be trying to salvage his rep!"

Steve pouts. "I _like_ the bee shirt."

Before he can type out a response, his phone vibrates.

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 2:50 PM

**Boarding now, talk to you later!**

**Don't miss me too much. ;)**

Steve sighs, upset that he wasted the few minutes he had to talk to HGFA by talking to Sam and Happy. He flops back onto the seat, cradling his phone to his chest like a treasured object.

"Sam, he's so pretty."

The car pulls to a stop. Happy is out and opening the door before Steve collects himself enough to do it.  

"Yeah? Well, tell Natasha all about it!" Sam says, as he pushing Steve out the door.

Steve whimpers.

They head straight for the Stark board room, where the rest of the Avengers have already assembled. Fury is there, looking Very Stern and Very Important. They discuss Very Important Things in the Very Important Meeting.

Which Steve doesn't really remember a thing about, since he's too distracted by the phone in his hand, willing it to notify him that he has a message. Then he realizes he hasn't replied yet, so he shoots off a quick message.

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 3:30 PM

**hope you landed safely :)**

Hot Guy's reply comes Many Important Topics later.

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 5:30 PM

**With you thinking of me, how could I not?**

Steve feels a grin start to make its way across his face, and he can do absolutely nothing to stop it. Not that he would even want to, because he hasn't felt so giddy in forever. He feels warm and excited as he keys in his reply.

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 5:31 PM

**you certainly took long enough. i couldn't put my phone down.**

Immediately after Steve hits send, he wonders if that was too much. He glances up to see Fury giving him his notorious Angry Glare.

Which is impressive, okay, because Fury only has _one eye_.

"Care to share with the class, Captain Rogers?"

"Umm."

Steve’s eyes slide over to Sam and Nat for help.

They are of no help.

Steve becomes very concerned, because Nat and Sam having their heads together like that does not bode well for him.

Steve feels a sense of impending doom.

Steve thinks that Sam’s probably busy messaging Nat because her phone hasn’t stopped buzzing. His suspicion is confirmed when Nat leans close and shows Steve her phone—there’s a picture of HGFA that Sam must’ve taken while they were at the airport. She waggles her eyebrows at him and then, making sure to hold her phone out of his reach, she types out: _JARVIS, FIND HIM._

Not .05 seconds later, JARVIS replies: _Would you like me to present the data to the room at large?_

Steve glares at her then gives her his Captain America is Disappointed In You Face, which doesn’t faze her in the least.

"Mr. Fury, if I may interrupt,” JARVIS says, “I have some information for Ms. Romanoff."

The warm feeling slowly trickles out, and he waits for JARVIS to continue speaking.

Hot Guy's photo flashes up on one of Stark's hologram screens.

"Oh God," Steve murmurs, but can't help but find himself drawn to the picture.

Tony says, “Huh, would you look at that? That's the new engineer we just hired. He's starting—help me out here, JARVIS?”

“Next week, sir.”

Fury is frowning, scanning the room for an explanation. Finding nothing, he sighs. "What does some employee have to do with an infiltrated SHIELD base?"

Nat rests her chin in her hand and looks over at Steve. "Yes, Steve,” she says, showing her dimples. “What _does_ Stark's new employee have to do with an infiltrated SHIELD. base?"

Fury throws his hands up in the air, giving up on his attempts to reign in the apparent high schoolers.

Steve's cheeks are warm and he finds himself continuously looking back at Hot Guy’s employee ID photo. Even his employee ID photo is gorgeous. _Nobody_ takes a good ID picture! It’s like, the law of the universe.

"He, um. I met him at the airport? He's... nice."

Hot Guy’s smile is bright in the photo, and he has an open and engaging expression on his face.

Steve's phone buzzes. When he looks down, he sees it's a text from JARVIS.

It's the photo. Underneath it is Hot Guy’s name: James Buchanan Barnes.

Is it creepy if he saves it? Steve hesitates for a moment. He saves it.

Steve heads to his phone contacts, stares at the words Hot Guy From Airport. He’s got a name now, so he should probably change it.

He exits and messages James instead.

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 4:45 PM

**so, I should probably tell you that i know tony stark.**

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 4:48 PM

**Steve, it isn't that hard to pick you out of the crowd.**

**You're awfully recognizable and your disguises are shit. ;)**

**But I still think you're cute.**

Steve feels the blush creep up from his neck to the tips of his ears, his heart hammering in his chest. Distantly, he can hear Tony talking about engineering genius and algorithms.

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 4:50 PM

**tony tells me you're starting work next week?**

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 4:51 PM

**Yup. and I'll be in the same building as you ;)**

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 4:52 PM

**Are you gonna do something with that?**

Steve blinks at his screen a few times, the grin returning to his face. He moves to reply, until Tony's voice interrupts him.

"Steve? Steve-o? Anyone home? I did ask you a question."

"What?" Steve asks, stealthily putting his phone back under the table.

"I asked if you knew that your boyfriend is pretty much a genius?"

"Genius?" Steve says. He looks at the hologram, where Hot Guy's credentials and employment record are on display.

“Not as smart as I am of course,” Tony says, “But good enough that—”

Then, Tony's words sink in. "He's not my boyfriend," Steve says, _maybe_ too quickly.

The Avengers squint at him. As one.

Definitely too quickly, then.

Nat smirks at Steve. "But you want him to be."

Steve sputters, then recovers enough to say, "How 'bout you let me ask him out for coffee first?"

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 4:54 PM

**yes. i am definitely going to do something about it**

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 4:56 PM

**Oh really? Color me intrigued.**

**I’ll be in New York on Monday.**

**You gonna be around?**

Steve beams down at his phone, excited to know that he only has to make it _three more days_ before Hot Guy from the Airport is in town.

Three! More! Days!

"We've lost Rogers," Steve hears Clint say.

"Poor America," Nat murmurs.

"I'm still here," Fury says. "If we can focus on the debrief instead of Cap's lovelife—"

"But Cap's lovelife has been frozen for _decades_ ," Tony says.

Steve ignores them all.

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 5:00 PM

**yes. i'll be taking you for coffee.**

"Let Capsicle have a popsicle—ow." Tony rubs his forehead as Nat beans him with a balled up piece of paper.

Sam mutters, "World's mightiest heroes," under his breath.

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 5:01 PM

**I'll hold you to that.**

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 5:02 PM

**And other things, too**

**;)**

Steve's mind whispers _popsicle_. His fingers tap out a message of their own volition.

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 5:03 PM

**do you like popsicles?**

The reply comes lightning fast.

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 5:03 PM

**Sure I could suck one down.**

**;)**

Steve coughs, face still red. When he looks up, the Avengers are all _still_ staring at him. Fury's eye is twitching.

He should probably put his phone down.

But not before sending a reply:

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 5:03 PM

 **i’ll hold** **_you_ ** **to that**

And then, just for good measure:

**;)**

__

Three days later, Steve feels jittery.

Despite the fact that he and James have been texting frequently, he still has absolutely no idea how to behave on their date later. Every date that Steve has gone on well, _ever_ , didn’t go very well, because Steve is _awkward_.

He’d woken up early and immediately started rummaging through his closet to try and decide on a decent enough outfit to wear to the coffee joint this afternoon. It's now ten in the morning and Steve has nothing.

He resorts to drastic measures.

“Hey, Nat? I have, um, a... fashion emergency.”

Nat, always eager to help Steve navigate the 21st century, arrives at his apartment immediately. Like she’d been waiting outside his door.

She quirks her lips up at Steve’s disheveled hair and panicked gaze.

“Calm down, Steve. Your wardrobe can’t be _that_ bad.”

Nat is so, so wrong. She emerges from Steve’s closet five minutes later, exasperated.

“Do you have anything that isn’t your supersuit, sports wear, or khakis in here?”

“No?” Steve says, but knows it’s the wrong answer.

“Okay,” she says. She pulls out a hoodie, a shirt, and hipster glasses. They used it on a mission before and Steve _swears_ he threw those frames out.

“Where did you even—Never mind, better that I don’t know.” Steve says. He looks at Nat. “No.”

“Your date’s a genius, Steve. He’ll appreciate the hipster geek look.” She holds up a pair of giant sneakers to go with the outfit.

Steve wonders why he called Nat in the first place. He glares at her until she sighs and puts that outfit back from _wherever_ she found it from.

“Just give me something sensible to wear. I don’t want to look like an idiot in front of him,” Steve pleads.

“I’m not sure what could look more idiotic than a _bee_ shirt, but sure.”

Steve rolls his eyes. He happened to like the bee shirt, and he will never hate on it. His phone buzzes with a text from Hot Guy From Airport, letting Steve know that he’s just landed at the airport. Meaning that Steve only has a small window of time left to make himself presentable. Attractive.

Luckily for him, Nat returns from the closet with a pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a blue jacket. Simple. He nods at her in approval.

“This should do the job. You look great in blue, after all,” she says, dropping the pile of clothes into his lap.

“Thank you, Nat.”

She rolls her eyes, but Steve can see the fondness in her gaze.

“Get your man, Steve.”

__

Steve meets Hot Guy From Airport—James, his name is James, Steve—outside the Stark cafeteria. James is clean-shaven this time. Steve opens his mouth to greet James when his gaze drifts down. James is wearing a dark shirt with a—

“Is that based off my shield?” Steve asks, staring.

James grins. “Good morning to you too, Steve.” His shirt has a yellow and black circular pattern like Captain America’s shield, but instead of the star, there’s a humongous cartoon bee smack in the middle.

 _Manners,_ Steve reminds himself. “Hi, James,” he says, recovering.

James makes a face. “Call me Bucky. Only angry school teachers call me James.”

“Bucky,” Steve says, the name rolling off his tongue.

“Short for Buchanan, my middle name. Parents were history nerds,” Bucky says with a shrug.

“Well,” Steve says. “It suits you.”

Bucky grins. “So, I was promised coffee?”

Steve nods, gesturing to the building behind him. “I thought we could just go here. Stark has some pretty decent coffee, and the place is nice enough?”

Bucky waves a hand, gesturing for Steve to lead the way. Only, when Steve begins to walk, he feels a hand intertwine with his own. Blushing, he looks to Bucky, who is grinning brightly at him. Bucky’s hand feels soft in his own, which is why Steve decides he never wants to let go. Unrealistic goal, but oh well.

“So, uh, how was getting settled in?”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at him, his grin melting into a smirk. “Steve, I literally got my apartment key from the receptionist and came straight here. My things were taken up to my room, because apparently moving into Stark Tower includes a moving service.”

Steve ducks his head, not having realized Bucky would want to come straight to meet him upon arriving in New York. It does, however, make him feel all warm and gooey inside.

They head over to the counter. There’s a special menu for the Avengers that Steve hopes Bucky won’t see, because it just screams of Tony’s ego.

But Bucky does see.

“What’s a Captain America latte?” Bucky says, reading off the menu. There’s a Thor Frappucino, an Iron Man (just that, no other description, because Tony says _it speaks for itself_ ), Hawkeye Mocha, Cup of Black Widow, and The Hulk Tea.

“I’ve never had it,” Steve admits.

Bucky looks at him. “Well, that won’t do.” He turns to the barista and orders it. “Gotta buy a coffee based off my favorite superhero.”

Steve fights down the blush trying to take over his face by ordering the sugariest option on the menu. Complete with chocolate sauce and sprinkles. Bucky gives him a bewildered look at the order, but Steve shrugs and says that if he’s going to drink coffee, he may as well enjoy it.

When their orders come, it turns out that the Captain America latte had Steve’s—Captain America’s—face drawn on the foam as latte art. CAPTAIN AMERICA WANTS YOU is scribbled on as well.

Bucky smirks at his coffee as they sit down at small table meant for just two people. “Now I can’t drink this. It’s too pretty.”

Steve wants to agree, purely on art alone. But then he realizes that would make him sound like he was agreeing that _he_ was pretty, so he just garbles out that it’s meant to be drunk, because the coffee wouldn’t be fulfilling its purpose if it wasn’t drunk.

Bucky laughs. “Okay, but.” He points down at the latte, _CAPTAIN AMERICA WANTS YOU_ floating on the surface like those damn war-time posters. “I like you a latte.”

Eyes glimmering with mischief, Bucky picks up his cup and takes a sip while holding Steve's gaze. How Bucky can make something as innocent as sipping coffee look so sexy, Steve cannot understand.

He's still trying to come up with a clever reply when he notices an odd-looking couple walk into the cafeteria. The woman is wearing a black sheath, and has on a wide-brimmed, black straw hat with a huge white bow around the crown. As if that wasn’t conspicuous enough, she’s also wearing sunglasses big enough to cover half her face. The sandy-haired man with her has on a purple t-shirt that’s seen better days, and rumpled track pants.

Nat and Clint. Of course. Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to ignore them. With a curious glance at Steve, Bucky turns around in his seat to see what's caught Steve's attention. When he turns back around, his eyes are wide with a mix of surprise and amusement.

“Is that—?”

“Yes.”

“Are they—?”

“Yes.”

Bucky laughs. “You have some really weird friends, Steve.”

“Believe me, I know. And you're one to talk, you like bee t-shirts.”

“Hey! I'll have you know I come by my love of bees legitimately.”

Steve gives Bucky an assessing look. “I feel like there's a story here.”

One side of Bucky’s mouth tips up in a lopsided smile. “Come visit me in the lab and I'll tell it to you.”

Steve nearly lets out a whoop. Bucky inviting him to the lab’s a good sign, right? _Be cool, don't freak him out._ “I will definitely do that.”

By this time, Nat and Clint have grabbed a table at his three o'clock and aren't even attempting to act normal. Nat has a huge menu in front of her face, leaving the top half of her sunglasses visible, while Clint’s got his chin in his hand and is staring openly at them with a silly grin on his face. He can almost see a thought bubble over Clint’s head with the words _Ah, young love._ Steve and Bucky both angle themselves away from their avid audience.

“Text me when you're free to drop by the lab,” Bucky says, picking up where they left off.

“I’m actually f—”

_“—they’re in the cafeteria, JARVIS. Of course you can put up the video feed. We’ve even got audio there!”_

Steve looks down at his phone in surprise. That’s Tony’s voice coming out of his phone, but he doesn’t seem to be talking to Steve. Bucky’s eyes widen as he mouths _Tony?_ Steve nods.

_“I’m afraid my protocols don’t allow me to share the audio feed without proper cause, sir.”_

_“Protocols?!”_ Steve can picture Tony inflating with outrage. _“I wrote the damned protocols!”_

_“Exactly, sir. So you very well know there is no security risk here to warrant your eavesdropping.”_

_“I’m not eavesdropping! I’m… uh, surveillance! Monitoring the wellbeing of a fellow teammate!”_

On a hunch, Steve brings the phone up to his mouth. “Tony?”

There’s a jangling, clanging sound, like a large number of metallic objects being dropped. _“Fuck!”_

Bucky smiles and gestures at the phone. Not quite believing how easy it is being with Bucky, he leans closer so Bucky can listen in on the conversation. His heart gives a happy thump when Bucky leans all the way in until his head is resting against Steve’s.

_“Who’s speaking? JARVIS? JARVIS, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”_

He puts on his best Captain America is Disappointed in You voice. “No, Tony. I don’t think JARVIS is the one who’s got some explaining to do.”

 _“Cap!”_ Tony’s voice is full of bonhomie and Steve can’t help but smile.

Admittedly his good mood is mostly due to having Bucky so close he can feel the brush of Bucky’s wavy hair against his temple, and breathe in the light, spicy scent of his cologne, but Tony doesn’t need to know that.

“Hey, boss,” Bucky adds.

_“Barnes! I see you’re settling in just fine. Getting a first class tour of the premises from America’s finest.”_

“I can’t complain.” Bucky sends Steve a mischievous look.

_“I told you no one could beat my pay and benefits package, didn’t I?”_

“Tony,” Steve says, and leaves it at that. He’s no longer surprised by Tony’s ability to brazen his way through any situation.

_“I was going to get someone to give a tour of the building, show you the toilets, things like that. But I think Cap’s got you covered. Haven’t you, Cap?”_

Bucky’s grinning openly at Steve, a cheeky, _come on I dare ya,_ kind of grin. There is no way Steve can resist it. “I’ve got him covered,” he concedes.

A snicker comes over the line before the connection is terminated. Steve and Bucky both lean back from each other, but not by very much. Looking about, Steve finds the closest security camera and mouths _Thank you, JARVIS._ His phone buzzes. _You’re most welcome, Captain Rogers._

“So,” Bucky says in a voice like a caress, “what’s a guy gotta do to get a popsicle around here?”

__

Steve decides to give Bucky time to settle into his new job before he goes for a visit. Bucky thinks that’s dumb, because he's _a genius who knows how to follow directions_ , but Steve wants to be courteous. That's the only reason.

A mission, of course, ends up putting the whole thing on hold, anyway. It was certainly not the main thing keeping Steve from the labs because, remember: courteous. Steve really should have figured out that he was going to have to go on some mission eventually. Fury _did_ call a meeting in order to brief the Avengers on the infiltrated SHIELD. bases (this didn’t end up being solely what was _covered_ in the meeting, but that was neither here nor there).

It’s still during Bucky’s workday that he finds out, so Steve goes ahead and just texts him while he walks to the quinjet.

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 3:12 PM

**hi, buck. avengers are being called for a mission, so i won’t be around until after we finish there ):**

Steve wants to tell Bucky that he’s going to miss him, but it's probably too soon to whip that word out. After all, they’ve only had one date and barely a week of knowing each other. Too soon.

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 3:14 PM

**(IMG.142)**

****

“Bee careful. Oh my god,” Steve reads aloud, chuckling. The image attached shows a cartoon bee with a construction worker’s hard hat and a bucket of honey, with the words _Bee careful_ in a speech bubble. It's the best response, and it puts Steve in a _much_ better mood. His unofficial boyfriend is a dork.

 _Boyfriend_. That would be nice.

“Oy, Cap. You coming?” Clint asks from the entrance of the jet.

Steve puts his phone away and jogs the rest of the way.

__

The quinjet takes them to Australia where there are aliens.

Aliens who steal sheep.

Steve does not want to think about what aliens would want to do with sheep.

The fight takes longer than any of them expects and when they get back home four days later, exhausted, the quinjet drops them all off at Stark Tower instead of SHIELD.

Steve’s bruised, and patches of his suit are peeling in places where the aliens’ acid spit had gotten on him. He’s badly in need of a shower and sleep, so of course, that’s when he runs into Bucky.

“Later, Cap.” Tony says, passing by. The rest of the Avengers follow suit, too exhausted to give Steve a hard time. Except Clint. Clint gives him a thumbs-up without even looking at him.

“Hey Steve,” Bucky says, scanning him from head to toe.

“Hey,” Steve says. Bucky looks _good._ He’s in a white sweater with another bee on it, the words _Always Bee Cool_ written over the bee’s buzzing head, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Then, because Steve’s crashing on adrenaline, he asks, “Were you waiting for me?” He means it to come out teasing, but comes out hopeful instead.

“You better _bee_ -lieve it,” Bucky says.

Steve grins. He sways on his feet a little.

“Woah, hey,” Bucky says, reaching out to steady him. Steve breathes him in. “We should probably get you up to Tony’s guest room?”

“Have a room here,” Steve mutters. He leans against Bucky. Comfortable. “For emergencies.”

“Cool,” Bucky says, leading him inside the elevator. “Have you been getting my messages?”

“I—I think so?” Steve says. “I haven’t been able to check.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, smiling. “You should get some rest. Then maybe read them later.”

Steve looks at him.

Bucky winks.

The elevator dings.

__

Steve rubs the crust from his eyes, stretching against the cool sheets. He looks up at the ceiling, assessing how his body feels—good, not like he spent several days fighting sheep-stealing aliens—then glances over to the window. It’s dark out. He reaches out to his bedside table, hand groping against the polished grain until his fingers close around his watch.

It’s 9 PM, a full day after he arrived in Stark Tower. Huh.

His phone’s on the table as well, plugged in to his charger. It’s proclaiming 100% battery. He disconnects it and powers it on.

A flood of messages come pouring in.

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 4:44 PM

**Bee strong!**

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 9:20 AM

**Remember, bee puns are good for your health.**

**They give you a dose of Vitamin Bee!**

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 5:00 PM

**When will you bee back?**

It’s a photo of the Captain America Latte. Steve shakes his head in amusement.

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 10:30 AM

**So, no answer means you’re still fighting or dead, huh?**

**Haven’t seen news of the second yet, so keep at it, Cap.**

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 10:32 AM

**Seriously, be careful.**

Steve reads that one, looking at the missed opportunity for a pun. A warm feeling settles in his stomach, maybe Bucky was too worried about him to remember to write one?

He scrolls to the next message.

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 7:30 PM

**I kind of miss your face.**

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 4:00 PM

**Saw you’ve defeated the big baddie on the news**

**Lookin’ good ;)**

And finally, the last one:

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 8:00 PM

**Hope you’re getting enough rest, sleeping bee-ty.**

It’s dated today. Steve looks at his messages, bites his lip. Then he looks down at himself, in a white shirt and pyjamas. Right. He sends a message anyway.

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 9:15 PM

**you busy?**

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 9:16 PM

**For you?**

**Never too bee-zy.**

Steve can’t fight the smile trying to break out on his face, so he doesn’t.

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 9:16 PM

**where are you?**

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 9:17 PM

**In the lab.**

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 9:18 PM

**bit late for work, isn’t it? D:**

FROM: Hot Guy From Airport / 9:19 PM

**Gonna come save me from these big bad computers?**

**;)**

TO: Hot Guy From Airport / 9:20 PM

**i’ll be there in twenty.**

__ 

In fifteen minutes, Steve’s showered, changed, and walking down the corridor to the engineering lab. He’s early, but when he thought about waiting till his twenty minutes were up, he’d decided that would be stupid, since he really wanted to see Bucky.

Steve’s about twenty feet from the entrance to the engineering lab when he hears… buzzing? Does Bucky actually have _bees_ in there? He hurries through the door and stops dead in his tracks.  

Bucky is standing in the middle of a spinning, whirling mass of tiny, flying drones. There are hundreds of them, all about one inch in length, flying in every direction like an actual swarm of bees. Somehow, none of them crash into each other.

Bucky watches the drones fly about the room with an intent expression on his face, gray eyes picking out different drones as he makes notes on the tablet in his hand. Steve is fascinated by this different side to Bucky, the intense focus on his face giving him a gravity beyond his years.

The drones continue to fly around, seemingly at random, but within moments, they swirl above a few containers scattered around the room. Bucky taps his tablet again, and he looks about with a small, satisfied smile on his lips. When he notices Steve, the smile widens to one of pleased surprise. He taps his fingers on the screen of his tablet again.

The drones stop their purposeful hovering and swarm up in the air, heading for Steve. He’d feel nervous about the swarm, if it wasn’t for the fact that Bucky was controlling them. They swirl around him, like a little tornado of bees over his head, while he looks up in wonder. Then, they split up into groups and zip around in tight formation. Steve can’t help the grin that steals across his face as he watches the drones do their aerial dance. One last flourish, and then they fly towards a large table in the corner of the room. The buzzing in the room settles down into silence as the drones land and power down.

“That was amazing, Bucky,” Steve says into the quiet. When he looks over, he finds Bucky watching him with a warm light in his eyes. Steve’s heart gives a funny little half-thump when he notices the affectionate curve to Bucky’s lips.

“So,” Steve says, a little breathless, “this is what you do?”

Bucky looks at the drones resting on the table, bounces on the balls of his feet and smiles at Steve like a proud parent. “Yup.”

Steve looks at the table, and back at Bucky. “And what... Um. What exactly is it? That you do?”

He swallows a groan. _Smooth, Rogers. Real smooth._

Bucky huffs a laugh and gives him a sheepish look. “Are you sure you want to get me started?”

“Absolutely.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Bucky says with a teasing glint in his eye. He looks about him, like he’s not sure where to begin, then down at the t-shirt he’s wearing. There’s a picture of a bee on it, of course, it’s six little legs each wrapped around a cup of coffee. The look in the bee’s eyes is worryingly similar to Clint’s after guzzling a whole pot of coffee. The word _Buzzin’_ is printed beneath the coffee-drunk bee.

“Bees,” Bucky says. And he’s off. He talks about a honeybee algorithm, and how he’s programmed the drones to independently allocate themselves in the most efficient manner to forage.

“Forage for what?” Steve says, feeling lost.

“People.” Bucky’s eyes glow with excitement. “I made them to find people. People who are lost, or trapped in collapsed buildings.” There’s a lot of different applications Bucky has in mind for his people-sniffing drones, and as Bucky lists them out, he’s so passionate about how his work can help people that Steve can’t help tipping a little further into something he’s not quite ready to name.

When Bucky suddenly breaks off mid-sentence and blinks up at Steve with wide eyes, Steve realizes how little distance separates them. He’d been lured closer and closer to Bucky without even noticing it. Like a bee to honey, he can’t help thinking.

Bucky bites his lip and ducks his head.

“Are you blushing?” Steve asks, watching in fascination as a hint of color tinges Bucky’s cheeks. “Somehow I didn’t have you pegged as the shy type.” Not after the kiss on the cheek and the flirty text messages.

“Yeah, well… That was flirting. Flirting’s easy.” Bucky looks up at him through long, dark lashes. “It’s different now that I’ve actually gotten to know you.”

“Is it, now?” Steve murmurs, eyes dropping to Bucky’s lips. Bucky’s bottom lip is red from where he bit it earlier. He swipes his tongue over it, Steve’s eyes following the movement. Bucky hums softly, lips stretching into a smirk.

“Yeah, you’re not just the _hot guy from the airport_ anymore.” Upon hearing the contact name he has for Bucky, Steve grins.

“That’s your name in my phone,” he says. Bucky moves back slightly— _too far—_ and minutely shakes his head, his smirk melting into a smile that could be described as _fond_.

“You’re the biggest dork I know, and _I’m_ the one wearing a shirt of a bee drinking coffee. Steve, _I_ put that as my contact name in your phone when we met at the airport.”

It’s Steve’s turn to blush then, but going where the moment is leading him, he wraps an arm around Bucky’s waist and pulls him close. Blue-grey eyes look up at him quizzically, but Bucky makes no move to back away.

“You have a lot of silly bee shirts. I like all of them.”

“I like _you_ ,” Bucky reveals softly.

And well, how the hell can Steve _not_ kiss him after that?

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a bonus of Bucky in his bee shirts:  
> 
> 
> Find us on Tumblr!  
> [deceptivesoldier](http://deceptivesoldier.tumblr.com)  
> [obsessivereader](http://yetanotherobsessivereader.tumblr.com)  
> [talkplaylove](http://talkplaylove.tumblr.com/tagged/akin)


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